


I Think There's Something in the Woods Around my House

by LordRosswood



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordRosswood/pseuds/LordRosswood
Summary: Emmanuel is just trying to survive life in his backwater community while doing his best to avoid other people. Things begin to spiral out of his control as the creatures in the woods around his home start to venture farther out of the woods.





	I Think There's Something in the Woods Around my House

April 6  
I got accused of something new recently by my mother. She thinks I’m lonely and paranoid. When I got back to my house today I found a package on the porch. When I went inside and opened it, all it had in it was this stupid journal with a note attached that read;  
“Emmanuel, I’m worried about you. Living alone by yourself and not talking with anyone isn’t healthy. Can you do me a favor? Can you at least try to write in this journal everyday? Maybe if you get your thoughts down it will keep you a little more sane.  
Love always, mom”  
Normally I wouldn’t bother with such a big waste of time and for that reason this journal has been sitting on my counter for three weeks now, but it has been downpouring for the better half of the morning so I guess boredom got the better of me. I don’t know how often I’ll use this book, or if I’ll ever even use it again.  
April 13  
I don’t have anything to do this evening. I worked all day, like I do everyday on the land surrounding my house. Most of it is woodland, about five hundred acres of it in fact. I spend a lot of my time going out into the woods and seeing what trees are big enough to chop down. I use the lumber to help keep my place up and running, whether that means using it to build new pens for my hogs, or heating the place, it’s important I always have a good supply on hand. I try to minimize the number of visits I make to the town. Not only is it a long drive, the villagers are idiots who can’t see the truths sitting right in front of their faces.  
April 23  
I finished slaughtering one of my hogs today. It broke its leg yesterday, it must’ve tripped in one of the rabbit holes littering my property. Sucked to kill it, not because I care much about the animal itself, but because normally I wait for fall. The longer I wait, the more meat I get, which I depend heavily on in the winter. Still, that extra meat is not worth the amount I would have to pay to have a vet come and set the leg and if it’s not done right it’s not worth doing so I didn’t bother trying to do it myself. So yesterday I took the pig outside my shed and shot it in the head with my .22. I then went and grabbed a rope. After securing the rope around the pigs hind legs, I dragged it into the shed (which was a hell of a lot of effort let me tell you). Thankfully the original owner of my land and who built the shed had similar intentions for its purpose as me, and in turn the shed was constructed as a place to butcher animals. I united the pig, took my deer hanger and pierced the animal’s hind legs with it. Then I went upstairs and opened the wooden hatch in the ceiling of the shed. I took the rope which was attached to the deer hanger, brought it through the opening, and tied it to one of the roof beams. After that I finally got to the fun part: cutting the beast up.  
First I slit its throat and watched as the blood poured out. The original owner had a drain installed in the floor so I wasn’t worried about the resulting mess. I did my best to wash the worst of the grime of the creature. Then, taking a sharp knife I separated the skin of the pig from its fat and muscle. I left it to hang overnight and firm up. This also gave a good excuse to rest my aching shoulders. Today after gutting it, I spent almost all my time cutting the carcass into the pieces you see on those little diagrams in the butchers shop.  
When I finally completed that task I took the remains deep into the woods, not far from the stream and dumped them for the animals to eat. The way I look at it is that if I’m not gonna eat it, and something else will, who am I to deny them? I hate waste of any kind in general and it also gives me a way to avoid going into town. Anything I won’t eat gets thrown out there, whether that be pig guts, animal bones, or rotting vegetables.The woodlanders seem to appreciate it and I certainly enjoy the ease of getting rid of it so it’s a win-win as far as I’m concerned.  
May 7  
My God these people! Idiots all of them I swear! Today I was out front near the dirt road that passes by my place, taking stock of what trees fell last night in a windstorm when all of a sudden this car pulls up to me. The driver, a woman that was either in her early thirties or late twenties rolled down her window, face pinched with anxiety.  
“Excuse me sir?” she asked. She must have seen the clear look of frustration on my face because she very quickly spit out “I’m looking for my cat, Roger. He’s golden brown with white splotches. I let him out every morning, he’s never strayed far from home and he comes back every night but last night he didn’t. Have you by chance seen him?”  
I told her I hadn’t, and with a touch of depression she drove off. It’s hard to feel sorry for her though when she’s a dumbass. What kind of fool leaves their cat outside in an area like this. She deserves to lose her cat at that rate. I didn’t say it to her, but I highly doubt that Roger will ever come home.  
Later, I walked out to where I dump my scrap food. There were tracks littered all around. I recognised some raccoon and coyote, but there was one set I couldn’t figure out what animal it belonged to. I had never seen a set like it before.  
May 12  
Took my dog, Rascal, out into the woods with me today. I saw a tree that I missed when cleaning after the windstorm and it was blocking one of my trails so I had to go cut it down. I really haven’t felt like sitting in the woods alone lately so I put him on a long lead and brought him along. He behaved himself and we were out of there sooner than I had thought we’d be.  
May 30  
I started chopping wood today. My shoulders ache even now at the memory. I always do it like my father had taught me when I was young. Raise the axe above your head and let gravity do all the work. If you force the axe down you do more work and tire yourself out quicker. Still, within what felt like seconds an irritating ache started to form deep in my shoulders. I grimaced when I realized what this meant. I went inside my house to pick up my phone, shooting a forlorn look to Rascal who was laying on the cool concrete garage floor. Seemingly sensing my despair he followed me into the house. I regretfully approached the phone and dialed the number to the doctor’s office in town and made an appointment. After hanging up I looked to Rascal and sighed. His ears perked up as I asked him “Do you want to come with me to town in two weeks?”  
June 13  
Today was the dreaded day at last. I put Rascal on his lead then let him into the truck. We drove down the steep hillsides and into town. Most of the buildings when you first enter are old and run down, but I rather like the personality it gives them. I had to drive further into town to reach the doctor’s office. The longer you drive, the newer and more cookiecutter the places get. After sitting for three hours in the doctor’s office, I got the verdict. Take aspirin. What a waste of my goddamn time. Thankfully I brought my wallet; when I have to go into town I try to get all my errands done at once to help limit my trips.  
First I went to this farm on the other side of town. The guy who runs this farms knows how it is around here, in these woods, and I can respect that. He sells me ground corn which I use to mix in with the hog’s slop. I asked him about raising chickens, he does, but I’ve never been sure if it's really worth the effort. He was telling me about what I would need and gave me some tips. The major one being, “There’s a lot out in those woods that can kill them before you get the chance.”  
Well he didn’t have to tell me twice that’s for sure. After that I went to the pet store to buy Rascal some treats and a new toy. Figured he might enjoy an actual dog toy more than the old dish rag I typically give him to play with. When I left the store I saw a missing dog poster. I just can’t understand these people! How hard is it to realize that these woods are dangerous! And on top of that how hard is it to properly pen up your animals. I have zero sympathy for these people. They’re probably just city slickers who moved to a rural area for a “slow life” but have no clue what they’re doing! Honestly!  
June 17, probably  
It’s sometime in the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. I woke up to the sound of Rascal barking like mad and something scratching around outside. It sounded big. Rascal wouldn’t stop barking. I yelled at him to hush up, I even went as far as to throw my shoe at him but it didn’t even phase him, he just kept on barking. The fur trailing along his spine was raised. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to do something about it. I went to my gun safe and took out my .22. I took a step out my back door and quickly fired a single shot into the air. Just as fast as I went outside I went back in. It’s hard for me to admit this, but my hands were shaking as I locked my door shut. I sat with my ear pressed against the door for some time listening for a sign of anything out there. I didn’t hear a peep. Then after putting the gun away and walking back to my bedroom I noticed that Rascal had stop barking. He stood on my bed, alert, staring at my window curtain. Now I can’t sleep and neither can he. We’re both sitting in the kitchen. Awake and with too many thoughts that should never be spoken aloud, or even put down on paper, haunting our thoughts. Still I have to wonder: why? I left food out, deep in the woods for its occupants. Was it not enough? Why did they come all the way to my house? Next time I get a chance to, I’ll leave something more for them.  
June 20  
The police put out an AMBER alert today. It was all over the news, everyone in town was talking about it, and the cops went door to door to make sure that everyone in our backwater community knew to keep an eye out for little Samantha Brown, who was only four years old. The story told to me was that her mother had told her to go play outside while she cleaned the house. Her mother looked away for two seconds and poof! Little Samantha was gone.  
I have to say, this disappearance just may have gotten to me. I’ve been in a pensive mood all day. After the police knocked on my door I hosed the blood from the last thing I butchered in the shed, hoping it would help clear my mind. Even as I watched the blood tinted water slowly swirl around and down the drain I couldn’t stop thinking of the girl. I hoped a walk out into the woods would clear my mind so I locked Rascal in the house and started my trek out. The sweet air was calming and but my mind still was clouded with anxiety about the young girl. Finally I reached to where I always dump food for the creatures in the woods. A tightness in my chest I hadn’t noticed before suddenly dissipated as I looked around. There was some blood, and plenty of animal tracks but no sign of Samantha’s corpse. The creatures hadn’t had trouble getting rid of the dog and cat carcasses I had left over the years but I was worried that the girls might be too big for them. Apparently all that anxiety was for nothing. Hopefully the creatures won’t have reason to come so close to my house now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I've written and posted online. I'm planing to write a story with a bit of a more humorous premise soon. If you see any mistakes or have any suggestions, please feel free to comment!


End file.
